


Take From Me (What You Want, What You Need)

by platonicharmonics



Series: We Two Boys Together Clinging [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthritic Hosea Matthews, Bathing/Washing, Body Worship, Creampie kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demiromantic Dutch van der Linde, Demisexual Hosea Matthews, Dutch and Hosea are Switches, Erectile Dysfunction, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Growing Old, Hosea Matthews Has Fibromyalgia, Hosea Matthews has Chronic Pain, Hosea whump, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Love, Overstimulation, Pain Flares, Pre-Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Protective Dutch Van Der Linde, hand-holding, mutual possessiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonicharmonics/pseuds/platonicharmonics
Summary: A combination of the Montanan winter, an incoming storm front, and chronic stress plunge Hosea into the worst chronic pain flare he's experienced yet.In response, Dutch shrugs off the recent strain in their relationship to give his life-partner the care, attention, and comfort he deserves.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Series: We Two Boys Together Clinging [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898260
Comments: 21
Kudos: 70





	Take From Me (What You Want, What You Need)

**Author's Note:**

> **Content Warning** for very light references of past suicidal ideation and alcoholism, past self harm, and past child death.
> 
> [Staggers in with mascara tear-stains while clutching a bottle of apple juice] All right. All right. So. This all started because I saw _one too goddamn many_ images/gifsets/art/videos showing Hosea getting shot and dying horribly and then I'm constantly surrounded by mORE media of Dutch being utterly shattered as a man over his death or I'm surrounded by reminders that Hosea constantly puts himself last and works so tirelessly to care for and protect others and I McFreaking Lost It and like... I don't even know what happened... I don't know how I got here... I just wrote almost 17,000 words of cathartic porn after getting possessed and am here to share it.
> 
> Title is taken from the utterly gorgeous song ["Lover, Please Stay"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v78PSm1R7bg) by Nothing But Thieves, which I also see as beautifully fitting this pair.
> 
> Last but certainly not least, I'd like to give a warm and loving shoutout to my fellow Hosea Matthews stan [Disishistory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disishistory/pseuds/Disishistory), who has been such a comforting source of encouragement and enablement through this fic's entire impulse-prompted journey. This one's for you, friend ♥

**_Montana, 1897_ **

The great infant state of Montana was a magnificent land of opportunity. 

California and its sweeping promises were a lost cause - the flood of people pouring over its borders like a swarm of locusts with nothing but hollow greedy hearts lusting for gold damned it long ago. It was for the best that he walked away from that land deal; there was no way that his gang, his  _ family  _ could have truly been happy - truly been  _ safe  _ there. Civilization would have encroached upon their paradise soon enough like an oil spill in water, blighting the land and choking out all life in its wake, including theirs. Dutch could feel it the entire time they were there - that ever-watchful eye of corporate men and politicians, trained on the nape of his neck like a pack of wolves eyeing a deer. The gang’s string of misfortunes only reinforced his suspicions - too many jobs gone wrong, too many folk injured. What they needed was good,  _ virgin  _ country. Montana was their promised land - still exactly what the West was supposed to be, still capable of holding that promise. 

He’d still be capable of holding  _ his  _ promise. 

His promise made on bended knee in front of Hosea and Arthur years ago, both men fractured and fraying like chipped paint under the strain of their respective losses. Hosea had returned to him from domestic life, and Arthur had never left, but they both lost the same - their woman, their child. The losses of Eliza and Hosea’s infant were bad enough, but the absences of Bessie and Isaac were gaping wounds in their chests as brutal as any buckshot. It had taken him years to realize that his promise of them living free wasn’t enough for them in the wake of such loss. Only when he’d taken their hands in his and promised them a  _ home  _ had they finally, finally... smiled. 

And Dutch had nearly forgotten what the sights looked like.

A cold, bitter gust of wind billowed past him and scraped past his face like thousands of tiny claws, jarring him out of his reverie. He shook his head and shivered, pulling his black fur coat tighter around his chest as he looked around the abandoned town that the gang had taken shelter in. It was the first town they’d found since crossing the border in late November, and the December air was a strict enough warning against them moving. They sure as hell couldn’t shelter in the small town thirty miles north.

With a huff that misted in the air, Dutch cast his gaze around the seemingly endless plains of dead grass that stretched towards the horizon in every direction, scanning for the silver glint of Silver Dollar’s coat or the towering shadow of Boadicea. A dark, rumbling cloud was approaching their little haven, bringing with it the promise of freezing rain.

_ “Mac!” _ Dutch called out to the man standing watch from the steeple of the old church, “Do you see them yet? They should know better than to keep huntin’ with this  _ cloud  _ comin’, goddammit!”

Mac lifted his binoculars again and slowly scanned their surroundings. He twitched his head back a ways, then called out, “They’re comin’ from the Northwest, boss!”

“Oh thank God,” Dutch growled with a shake of his head, then looked back up at Mac. “Thank you, son!” Mac waved him off, and Dutch trodded into the general store that Pearson was using to keep their food supply to yell at the man to hurry his ass up and get meals out for everyone before the rain hit.

Twenty minutes later, as the first small droplets began hitting the windows, Dutch finished checking in with the women and little Jack and slammed the door of the hotel behind him a bit more forcefully than was befitting a gentleman. The whole gang had registered their complaints about their current lodgings and their dire shortage of food  _ at least  _ three times each since they first rolled in, and none were so venomously vocal about the loss of Californian sun as Abigail. Every time he was in the same space as the woman, they devolved into a passive aggressive battle of acidic comments about which was worse for the baby - barren winter plains or the bosom of civilization. That was the problem with  _ mothers, _ Dutch thought - always so prone to being blinded by short-term problems, chained to a short-view of life, unable to see past their child’s head. His own mother condescended at his long-view of life, too.

He wrinkled his nose as he caught the thought. Shaking his head with a low noise of disgust, he distracted himself with the sight of Arthur taking the tack off of Boadicea and Silver Dollar near the livery stables sheltering the horses. Well good, then. Arthur and Hosea would ensure that the men had whatever they needed, which meant Dutch could retire to his space in the apartment above the gunsmithy for some  _ goddamn peace and quiet _ to wait out the ice storm.

“Hey, Dutch?” Arthur called out to him.

Dutch stopped halfway across the street and looked at the boy with a strained, growling sigh.  _ “What _ is it, son?”

“Can you c’mere a second?”

Dutch clenched his jaw as another icy droplet hit his cheek. It wouldn’t be long before it would be raining in earnest, and then everyone would have to take shelter in whatever building they could, and he would go well and truly  _ insane  _ if he had to bunker down in the saloon holding the rest of the men and their complaints. With another strained sigh, he hurried over to Arthur and the long face he was wearing and forced his voice to soften before asking, “What?”

Arthur cringed a little before saying, “Hosea and I, we didn’t bag anyth-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dutch said quickly, waving him off and turning away.

_ “Dutch,” _ Arthur pressed, “Hosea’s in a bad way!”

“Oh I’m  _ sure  _ he  _ is!” _ Dutch called back, still walking. “You tell him he’ll make himself sick with all his gripi-”

“Dutch, I’m serious,” Arthur tried, and the slight quiver in the boy’s voice made him stop in his tracks. “Hosea, he - he ain’t doin’ too good. He needs help.”

Dutch was back at Arthur’s side in a second. “Is he with Swanson or Miss Grimshaw now?” he asked urgently.

Arthur shook his head. “It ain’t the kind of thing they can help with. It’s… it’s like-” he lowered his voice and ducked his head,  _ “those _ times. Y’know? He needs-  _ you.” _

Dutch felt his heart give a particularly heavy thump. “Where is he now?”

Arthur frowned. “He said he just needed rest, he went off to the others.”

_ “Thank you son,” _ Dutch finished quickly, reaching out and squeezing Arthur’s shoulder before hurrying off to the saloon.

When he made his way through the doors, he was greeted warmly with a quiet  _ “Dutch” _ from Davey, Bill, Javier, and Swanson. He spared the men a quick glance and short nod before continuing his frantic search, finally spotting Hosea sitting in a chair against the wall near the fireplace, sitting with both feet planted firm on the floor, his hands on his knees, and his spine ramrod straight.

Oh, it  _ must  _ be bad.

“Hey, old friend,” Dutch said gently, stepping up to his side. “How ya doin’?”

Hosea didn’t answer him. Instead, he kept staring dead ahead with wide eyes that were slightly glassed over, his jaw clenched. Dutch gently leaned closer to him and made out how worryingly pale he was, his face entirely drained of color. He was either holding his breath or was breathing so quickly and shallowly that Dutch couldn’t make it out. Upon even closer inspection, Dutch realized he was trembling, ever-so-slightly, almost beneath notice.

He swallowed, thickly. “You don’t look too good. Do I need to get you out of here?”

Hosea’s breath hitched and he glanced at him. He trembled harder for half a second. Dutch glanced down to catch his fingers curling white-knuckled around his knees. Hosea’s breath hitched again, even more pained than the first, and Dutch couldn’t take it anymore.

“Come on,” he said gently, offering his arm, “let’s go.”

Hosea furrowed his brow and shot him a glare. 

“Hosea,” he said, softly. “Please.”

Hosea huffed a harsh breath out through his nose before sucking in a strained gasp again, screwing his eyes shut. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but choked on the words with a quiet, pained nose. Instead, he bared his teeth and opened his eyes, his expression crumpling in ways so slight that only Dutch could see the loss in it. With one last shudder, he tentatively lifted his arm towards Dutch.

Dutch studiously tucked his arm under Hosea’s, then braced himself and helped heave the man onto his feet. Dutch heard three sharp  _ snaps _ , one of which shuddered through the tendons and ligaments of the shoulder he was holding, and while Hosea didn’t cry out, his face got impossibly paler, his pupils contracting ever further than they already were.

“Sorry,” Dutch murmured, listening to the silence of Hosea’s held breath once more. He wanted to guide him with a hand on the small of his back, hold his hand, press a kiss to his temple, but the presence of all the other men surrounding them made him simply say, “C’mon.”

As Dutch led Hosea across the floor and towards the door - the older man obviously doing everything in his power to hide the pain in his steps from the others, his hips and knees and ankles audibly clicking - young Lenny looked up at them both from where he was reading on the floor and asked, “Where are y’all going?”

Dutch offered the boy a smile. “Ol’ Hosea and I have lots of things to discuss. In my apartment.”

Javier looked over at them from where he’d been staring out the window with an anxious frown. “You sure? The ice storm’s already starting-” Dutch hurried his steps across the room, making Hosea spasm slightly as he struggled to keep up “-and you two are gonna be stuck togeth-”

“Hosea and I rooming together is hardly  _ new-” _

Bill snorted while Davey went “I’ll take bets on which one of ‘ems kills the other by sunr-”

Dutch paused with his hand on the doorknob, the other still supporting Hosea’s trembling weight, to slowly turn his head and fix Davey and the others with a dark, thunderous glare. Davey shut his mouth immediately, as did everyone else, and the temperature of the room dropped a degree as the air grew tense.

“I’ve had quite enough of your  _ disrespect,”  _ Dutch snapped. “Now all of you, mind your damn business!” And with that, he flung open the door.

The ice storm was, indeed, starting outside in earnest, the freezing cold rain becoming solid ice almost as soon as it hit the ground. Dutch slammed the door behind them and pulled Hosea further out onto the porch, but froze when Hosea stumbled and hitched a breath so sharp it was almost a shriek. A blast of cold wind howled through the porch and Hosea nearly collapsed against his chest with a gasping whimper.

If seeing Hosea in pain was like a knife in his heart,  _ hearing  _ him in pain was like it  _ twisting. _

“I’m sorry, Old Girl, I’m sorry,” Dutch said urgently, “but do you think you can walk?”

Hosea stared wall-eyed out at the rain and the distance from the saloon to the gunsmithy for a few long seconds before making a low, strangled noise and turning back towards the saloon doors. 

“No,” Dutch said lowly, immediately reeling Hosea into his chest and quickly stooping to scoop his arm under the man’s legs. With a single determined heave, he lifted Hosea up into his arms to cradle against his chest in a bridal carry. He flinched at Hosea’s choked-off scream and the spasm that wracked his body.  _ “Shit, _ I’m sorry, just- Hang on-”

Holding Hosea close, Dutch determinedly hurried out into the street in a quick, urgent walk, trying his best to not flat out  _ run  _ to the door lest he wipe out on the ice under his feet and thoroughly destroy  _ both  _ of their aging bodies. He passed Arthur on the way, holding his coat tight and his hat low, and bellowed at the boy,  _ “Get inside _ and get  _ warm, _ son,  _ now! _ I got him!” Arthur heaved out a sigh of relief and then hurried towards the saloon, only pausing when Dutch called after him, “And make sure we’re not disturbed!”

If Arthur replied, Dutch couldn’t hear it over the hiss of rain, Hosea’s whimpered panting, and the ringing in his ears. The next thing he knew, he was kicking the door to the gunsmithy open and side-stepping inside, shoving the door shut with his back. He looked down at Hosea with a frown and pinched his brow upwards, his dark brown eyes meeting Hosea’s glassy hazel. “I’ve got you,” he said forcefully, looking up again at the dark shadows of the abandoned store as he made his way towards the staircase, resituating his grip on his best friend - his partner. “I’ve got you. I’ve  _ got  _ you.”

Finally up the stairs in the apartment proper, Dutch eased Hosea down into a cushioned armchair and did his best not to crumple at the sound of Hosea’s sob. Instead, he knelt down in front of Hosea and took his cold, cold hands in his, asking, “What do you need? How can I help?”

Hosea shivered violently as one tear, then another leaked out of the corners of his eyes and slowly started rolling down the sides of his face. He looked at Dutch, eyes struggling to focus, and quivered for a few seconds before managing a single word, his voice high and broken and strangled:  _ “Hurts.” _

Dutch’s expression broke as he shuffled closer, squeezing Hosea’s hands gently. His voice cracked as he asked, “What hurts, dearest?”

Hosea panted for a few long seconds, his lungs wheezing and whistling. He swallowed roughly, then slowly whined,  _ “Everything.”  _ Dutch tried desperately to meet his gaze again, but Hosea’s eyes drifted off to the side and fully glassed over as the man continued to shiver.

“I…” Dutch’s voice faded out. 

Hosea… Hosea was supposed to be… Hosea was supposed to be his rock. His wall to fall back on. The shore for him to break on, his safe harbor against the storms that raged in his mind. Whenever things got bad,  _ truly bad, _ it was Hosea who was always supposed to be there as his unshakeable foundation, and when Dutch was at a loss for what to do, Hosea was always supposed to have an answer. 

The only other time in their lives Hosea had ever been so lost was when he rode back into camp after thirteen months away and fell off Silver Dollar, blackout drunk, only to stay drunk for another twelve. He’d offered no guidance, no mindful advice, no gestures of comfort then, either, and when Dutch had tried to tentatively sit beside him and ask if he needed anything, the man only held up his upteenth whiskey, gave him a sharp-toothed smile, and said in a way that was almost spiteful in its cruelty,  _ “I need to figure out how many of these it takes to kill a man.” _

Dutch hadn’t been able to help him, then. If anything, he only made things worse with his efforts. What cruel irony it was that the only thing that broke the man out of his downward spiral was Dutch starting his own after the murder of Annabelle - the bright, brilliant, beautiful  _ wildfire  _ that was his Anja. Hosea put down the alcohol right as Dutch started picking up knives.

He doubted throwing himself down the stairs would do any good, now.

A high, pained sob from Hosea broke Dutch out of his head, splashing him back down into the present like falling through ice into frigid water. He set his jaw and firmly squeezed Hosea’s hands, then his chest.

_ “I got you,”  _ he ground out. “I’m going to take care of you, so help me God.”

In a flash, he was at the upstairs fireplace, striking a match to light the kindling and carefully stacking logs on top of it. He stoked it a couple times to encourage the flames to quickly lap onto the logs, then stood to quickly look around the room - the old bed, the dresser, Hosea trembling in the chair - before shedding his coat, scarf and hat and flinging them atop the dresser. “Here, let me,” he murmured softly, taking Hosea’s hat and scarf and setting them aside before tugging off the man’s coat and tossing it over his own. With a deep grunt, he took the chair and shoved it closer to the fire, relaxing slightly at the sound of Hosea’s soft, relieved sigh from amongst his staccato pants.

Dutch leaned down low over the back of the chair and gently pressed his temple against Hosea’s, wrapping his arms slowly around the man’s chest. “I meant to take a hot bath this evening, so I had some of the girls draw and heat all the water just half an hour ago. What if you take it instead, huh? Bet the hot water could do your poor joints and muscles some good. Steam’ll be good for your lungs, too.”

Hosea’s brow furrowed again and he shot Dutch a look with a low, wary noise. Dutch blinked and shrugged at him. “What?”

Hosea opened his mouth and breathed out a strangled, “I-It….  _ hah, _ s’yours.”

Dutch frowned at him. “You need it way more than me.”

Hosea looked away from him with a low growl. “Don’t-...” a long, broken whine dragged out of his throat as he shifted uncomfortably, panting again. “...n-  _ need…” _

“You need everything you can  _ get,”  _ Dutch snapped. “Now stop your grandstanding, you’re in  _ pain, goddammit!” _ He let go of Hosea and stood up, circling around to the front of the chair, then stopped when Hosea cringed away from him. The sight made a dagger of ice flash in his gut, snapping him back to another time Hosea had cringed away from his touch. A dark year of broken trust and broken boundaries.

His fear-fueled frustration turned to ash in his mouth, and he kneeled down again at Hosea’s feet, his hands hovering feather-light on the arm of the chair. “I’m… sorry,” he said slowly. He huffed out his own sigh and grimaced before he said, voice breaking again, “I just  _ hate seeing you in pain, _ darlin’. This is the worst I’ve ever seen you. Look, I’m happy to help in whatever way you need, I can be there with you the whole time, just-”

Hosea scrunched his face up at that and mashed his head into the corner of the armchair, screwing his eyes shut as his hands twitched and spasmed into loose fists, unable to fully close. “Mmmm-...” He tried shakily, then bared his teeth, choking back a sob before growling again. “Sp-onge bath… To an-n-n-  _ nnnn, _ old m-man…”

Dutch scoffed. “I-” He sighed heavily and shook his head, inching his hands closer, desperate, pleading. “It won’t be like that. Now- hey. What if-” he swallowed “-what if I take the bath with you, huh old friend? Then I get it too and it’s just- us sharing a bath together. Like we used to. Back in the good old days.”

Hosea’s eyes slowly slid over to him from where he’d tucked himself into the corner of the chair. After a long minute of tense, strained silence save only for his pained breathing, he nodded, reaching his arms out to Dutch.

Dutch didn’t bother hiding his relieved sigh as he leaned forward and embraced Hosea. Hosea pressed his head into his shoulder, and Dutch slid an arm down to scoop him up under his knees while his other cradled his back. Hosea let out another choked-off scream that made Dutch’s stomach convulse as he stood with him, but after allowing a few seconds for Hosea to adjust, he turned and carefully walked them down the stairs.

The wood stove downstairs was still blazing furiously, and Dutch closed his eyes for a second in praise to it as they passed, feeling the rolling waves of hot air chase away the frigid needles that blew in through the uninsulated walls. The tub was situated directly across from it, both located in a private washroom behind the store, and Dutch sent another silent praise to the fact that steam was still billowing up from the water. He gingerly set Hosea down in a chair nearby, then set to work slipping off his rings and pulling out his pocket-watch to set aside before unbuckling his gun-belt.

He glanced aside at Hosea, who was still in the same position as he’d left him. Dutch slowed his movements as he worked at unbuttoning his vest and shirt, eventually coming to a stop. “Do you need help getting undressed?” he asked, quietly.

Hosea audibly ground his teeth before baring them, squinting furiously at nothing as he hung his head. He hitched a breath, then another, then shuddered and snarled out, his voice low and pained and broken,  _ “I hate this.”  _ His shoulders started shuddering, and after a deafening stretch of silence, he heard the muffled whimpers of the man’s sobs.

If Dutch’s heart hadn’t been broken by the man’s sounds before, it sure as hell was now.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice thick in his near-whisper. He breathed for a few seconds to steady himself before rapidly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and undoing his jeans. “I know, I know you do, we just need- This’ll make it better, this’ll make it-” he was babbling, he knew, as he ripped his boots and socks off “-better, we’ll warm up those poor tortured joints of yours and get you  _ warm  _ and get you taken care of-”

Hosea stiffly shook his head. “Hate… body,” he corrected, hoarse.

_ “Well I don’t,” _ came out of Dutch’s mouth almost automatically. He paused a second before shrugging off his clothes, then unbuttoned his union suit and shrugged out of it, pushing it off of his ankles. He scrubbed a hand over his face quickly before squatting down in front of Hosea’s knees, his hands on the man’s thighs. “You good for me to undress you?”

Hosea shrugged and looked morosely off at the wall with a twitch.

Dutch slowly licked his lips and swallowed before leaning forward to press a kiss to the man’s knee, eyes upwards the whole time. He caught it when those pained, glassy eyes slipped back to him. “I need to hear you say it,” he said, quietly.

Hosea stared at him for a long beat before his expression crumpled into something far softer. With a quiet hiss through his teeth, he nodded his head and managed, “Yes.”

Dutch could have kissed him on the mouth. Instead, he quickly set to work unbuttoning the man’s vest and gun-belt, gently setting them aside before working at the man’s shirt - he was careful not to hesitate or make any change of expression about their half-buttoned and misbuttoned state - before undoing the man’s jeans. He pulled the man’s boots and socks off with reverent hands, then did the same with his jeans and shirt. He made quick work of the buttons of his union suit, then - hesitated.

Hosea huffed a gentle laugh through his hitched breaths. “Ain’t-... n-no virgin.”

Dutch snorted and scratched at his stubble as a blush threatened to rise to his cheeks. The amount of times Dutch had been knelt between Hosea’s knees as he sat naked on a chair were countless. Granted, he usually had the man’s cock in his mouth.

He cleared his throat and stood to push Hosea’s union suit off of his torso and down to his hips. He helped shift Hosea up just enough to slip the fabric past his ass, then knelt again to pull it completely off the bottoms of his legs. When Hosea was completely naked, Dutch settled beside his hip and determinedly looked at his face. “Would you like help getting in, or would you like me to pick you up and set you down in there?”

Hosea stared at the steaming tub for a long moment, then slid his eyes over to the muscles of Dutch’s arms. “...S- Second.”

“You want me to pick you up?” Dutch clarified. At Hosea’s nod, he embraced the man and scooped his legs up once more. Hosea only let out a sharp gasp, but then the next moment he was being lowered into the hot water, and after spasming for a second, he gasped and…  _ moaned, _ oozing down into the water.

Dutch furiously ignored the tingles that meandered south down his abdomen as he climbed into the water behind the man, splashing some of it over the sides as he awkwardly settled into the tight space. He quickly spread his legs and pushed himself as far back as he could so Hosea wouldn’t be cramped, then stiffened as the man instantly shifted himself back to lean against his chest, his head slowly sinking back to rest against his shoulder with another breathy moan.

Dutch pursed his lips. “...Are you doing this on purpose.”

Hosea peeked an eyelid open to look up at him. He huffed, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards slightly, before he closed his eyes again. Dutch heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“Gotta… get- m-... my chuckles-” Hosea took a deep breath “-somewhere…”

Dutch frowned and looked away at the wood stove and the golden flames that danced within, not making any other move. After a long stretch of silence, as he listened to Hosea’s breaths slowly get less and less rapid, less and less pained, he quietly said, “I don’t think that’s a funny joke.”

The mirth in Hosea’s expression drained away.

Dutch looked down at the soap and picked it up, dunking it in the water and working up a lather from around Hosea’s torso. “...We haven’t been intimate since I turned down the land deal.”

Hosea was frowning, now.

Dutch picked up the washcloth slung over the side of the tub and dunked it into the sudsy water, wetting it before bringing it gently against Hosea’s chest, pausing when the man turned his head to nuzzle against the dark hair of Dutch’s chest. He murmured something against Dutch’s collarbone.

Dutch blinked. “What?”

A shudder rolled through Hosea’s body. “...We were- ... _ there, _ Dutch.”

Dutch glared down at the water as he idly washed Hosea’s chest. “Are we really doing this again? Now?”

Hosea nuzzled further into his chest and furrowed his brow. “I just… I’m just…” He slumped as much as could, spasming slightly, before slowly opening his eyes.  _ “...tired.” _

Dutch’s glare softened as he turned it away from the water and back onto Hosea’s torso. He took in the lean muscles that still composed the man’s sinewy frame, as well as the curtain of soft gray hair that rolled down his chest in a sparse sheet. He dragged the washcloth carefully over that hair, over his pecs and around his shoulders, gliding it gently down his arms, his touch becoming softer, slower, and more reverent with each passing minute. His voice still carried a hard edge to it when he finally said, “I wish you could just  _ understand  _ that I didn’t make this choice lightly. Give us some time, we’ll find a home here, I swear it.”

Hosea stared passively down at the washcloth as Dutch picked up his hand and cradled it in his, slowly running the cloth over his knuckles, through his fingers, and over his palm. “...I ain’t- got… much time  _ left,” _ Hosea whispered.

Dutch stilled and tensed and screwed his face up, fighting the urge to rip away from him and leave the tub entirely. “I wish you’d stop talking like that,” he said, and the harshness of his tone was betrayed by the quiver in it, in the way his voice cracked on  _ stop. _

Hosea laughed - a cold, bitter sound, like the wind howling at the walls. “S’truth. Gotta…” he hitched a breath, “face it.”

Dutch tightened his arms around Hosea’s chest and held him flush against his front, pressing his forehead to the top of Hosea’s head and burying his nose in soft, silver locks. “You ain’t nowhere near death’s door.  _ Shut up.” _

“Ain’t I?”

Dutch lifted his head and leaned forward to glare at the man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hosea grimaced at him. “Lost… all my- my looks,” he said with a huff. “Lost my speed, my s-strength… M’losing my, my- my-” He angrily splashed the water with a pained growl. “Look at you, havin’- h-havin’ to-  _ take care _ o’ me… ‘M an  _ invalid.” _

“None of those things are true,” Dutch said lowly, violently splashing water on him and flinging a splatter of droplets against the wall. 

“Liar.”

“You’re the one who’s-”

“Next I’ll lose- m’ mind.”

“You already _did,”_ Dutch bit, the air stinging with its sharpness just like tears stung his eyes, and all he wanted to do was make the man _hurt,_ hurt as much as he was hurting _him._ “Coming back to me just so you could look me in the eye and _leave._ In front of the boys and Tilly, no less.”

Hosea desperately grabbed at the tub and tugged himself away from Dutch’s chest with a twitch and a spasm, making the water rock back and forth in waves across their chests. His shoulders trembled for a long while.

The sob Dutch heard was too soft and lasted too long to be from any physical pain.

He felt the icy dagger sink into his gut again, and his gaze fell to the sight of his own arms and legs, no longer blocked by Hosea’s frame. The scars laid in neat rows were bitter reminders of his hypocrisy, and his eyes rose slowly to Hosea’s bowed back, shaking as the man cried.

...He made Hosea cry so much recently, hadn’t he?

_ Everything  _ fell away - the resentment, the doubt, the frustration, the fear - his entire world narrowing down to the man in front of him.  _ Hosea. _ His  _ partner. _ The source of so much light and laughter and love in his life was being eaten alive by pain right in front of him, and the best he could think to do was try to lash out rather than worship him as the wonder he was.

“God,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Hosea. I’m a  _ fool. _ I’m a fool, and I’m  _ sorry.” _ He ducked his head. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. That’s all I want. For you to be safe. To be able to rest. I just… All I want is to make you feel good.” He slowly, hesitantly reached out a hand, but didn’t dare touch.  _ “Please,” _ he begged, voice low and quiet. “Let me prove to you that I can make you feel  _ good.” _

Hosea slowly, hesitantly turned his head to look over his shoulder at him with exhausted, bloodshot eyes, still leaking tears. 

A tremor rolled through Dutch’s frame. “Please,” he repeated, softly.

Hosea stared into his eyes for a long minute, then relaxed with a shudder, sinking back into the water to curl against Dutch’s chest with a wary frown. Dutch readily wrapped him up in his arms and held him close, tucking his nose against the man’s temple.

“Arthur, John, and Tilly are so happy you’re here,” he murmured, picking up the washcloth again. “Everyone is. You’re the heart of this gang, darlin’. Always have been. Always will be.” He smoothed the washcloth down Hosea’s other arm, scrubbing in gentle circles, before picking up and cradling his hand. “These hands hold us together, I hope you know that. It don’t matter if your knuckles swell and lock up. If you can’t button up your shirts or grasp things or hold a gun right on bad days no more. It don’t matter how many bad days there are. They’re just as capable as they always were. At protectin’ us.” He tenderly worked the washcloth over Hosea’s knuckles, through his fingers, and across his palm once more. “...At protectin’  _ me.” _ His voice broke into a quiet whisper. “After Annabelle… I… If you weren’t there…”

Hosea turned his head to the side towards Dutch’s arm, his face level with a patch of scars, and pressed a long, heavy kiss over them. That wouldn’t do.

“Hey,” Dutch scolded gently, rinsing Hosea’s hand in the water before bringing it up to his lips, “this is about  _ you.” _ And, to prove his point, he pressed a gentle kiss to each knuckle, then to the back of his hand, then to his palm, ending with a kiss to each fingertip. He then sank his mouth down around the length of Hosea’s index finger until his lips wrapped around the base knuckle, feeling the tip of the finger poke the back of his throat. He swirled his tongue around its length and sucked at it for a few long seconds before dragging his mouth off of it with a wet  _ pop, _ flicking his tongue out one last time over the pad. He smiled down at Hosea, who was looking up at him with wide eyes, no longer glassy, his jaw slack. Dutch pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Was that okay?” he whispered.

Hosea slowly smiled, his eyes crinkling, and buried his face in his chest hair again with a soft sigh, his legs squirming in the water slightly. 

Dutch chuckled, a quiet sound, and continued his work, slowly and gently scrubbing the washcloth over the expanse of Hosea - his stomach, his sides, his hips and thighs - his fingers splayed out through the cloth. He stopped and pulled his hand away from the spot on Hosea’s thigh he’d just touched when Hosea jerked and whimpered, and only continued when Hosea grunted, “Nerve pain. C-Careful.” Dutch nodded silently, skipping over the spot, to continue down the man’s calves. Hosea turned his head to look down into the water with a heavy frown.

“What’s on your mind?” Dutch prompted, gently tugging one of Hosea’s legs to bring his foot within reach, cringing alongside Hosea when the man’s hip clicked.

Hosea’s brow furrowed. “What if-... I’m makin’ it up. The… The pain.”

Dutch snorted. “Now  _ there’s  _ a question a conman asks himself.”

“Susan... “ Hosea hid his face in Dutch’s chest. “When this first st- started, I went to her, ‘member? And she said- there ain’t- nothin’ wrong. That I just need to-... power through it. That it’s in my head.”

“There is  _ obviously  _ somethin’ wrong-”

“M’ joints came l- later, you know that, and even then, I- I ain’t sure I ain’t making them worse than they r-really are. I’ve been fine- nothin’- nothing’s  _ happened, _ ‘ve taken things easy, n’ yet- What if- What if it’s not real and I’m crazy-”

Dutch gently squeezed him against his chest, and Hosea’s voice tapered out. “When I have my…  _ troubles… _ when I get unnerved for no reason, does that make me crazy?”

Hosea snapped out of whatever rut he was falling in and firmly shook his head, looking at him with old, knowing eyes. Eyes that had grounded Dutch through countless instances where he’d been fine, everything had been  _ fine  _ \- he’d be standing in the aftermath of a victory, or sitting in the peace and safety of camp reading a book, only for adrenaline to start pouring through his veins like a dam had burst, his heart thundering like a sprinting jackrabbit as every little thing became apocalyptic, stripped away until the only things left were  _ run  _ or  _ hit  _ or  _ scream; _ and God did he scream, at every person who looked at him or came close, until finally Hosea would take his arm and walk him behind the closed flaps of his tent or into the distant wilderness, where he could finally be crushed against the man’s chest so he could hyperventilate into his collar and wait until his body no longer thought it was in danger or dying, Hosea coaching him through how to breathe in hushed whispers.

“Well,” Dutch murmured, bringing the washcloth up to gently caress around Hosea’s neck, “I’ve got a  _ thing… _ Now you’ve got a  _ thing. _ Now we’re even.” He shrugged gently. “Now maybe I can catch up with all the times you help me with  _ my  _ thing by helping you with yours.”

Hosea hummed, closing his eyes and nuzzling his nose into the dip of Dutch’s collarbone. “I think... I’m done talkin’,” he said quietly, and even Dutch could tell it was from exhaustion rather than any unkindness. The eased lines around Hosea’s eyes also let him know his point hit home.

Dutch gently wiped the washcloth over the man’s cheeks, jaw, and forehead, then dipped it in the water again to tenderly caress over eyelids, his nose, his lips, parting them slightly. “How you think you’ve lost your looks, I’ll never know,” he rumbled with a huff of amusement. The man still had the same sculpted features and chiseled jaw he always had, and the wrinkles woven through his face, the bags under his eyes, and the silver hair simply added to the sculpture, to its rustic beauty, to its story. “From where I’m sitting, you’re even more handsome than the day we met.”

Hosea oozed even further into the water with a small smile and disbelieving huff. 

“It’s true,” Dutch pressed, a small smile of his own gracing his face. He held Hosea closer, easing him into twisting to the side more so he could wash the nape of his neck and scrub in lazy circles down his back. “And I got some wrinkles and gray hairs of my own, y’know.”

Hosea hummed. “I love- them.”

“And I love all of yours,” Dutch purred.

Hosea peeked an eyelid open. “Y’re on your sweetness.”

“I thought you were done talkin’?”

Hosea opened both of his eyes to gaze up at him, soft and loving. “I love wh- when you compliment me,” he whispered.

Dutch met his gaze and felt the corners of his own eyes crinkle. “I have a present waiting for you upstairs,” he said quietly. “I got it in Idaho. Been meaning to give it to you, but… Well. When we wrap up here, how about I use it to give you a massage?” He leaned in close to Hosea’s ear and rumbled, “I can give your body all the compliments it deserves.”

Hosea just smiled at him, tired and a little sad. “I’d like- that.”

Dutch pressed another kiss to Hosea’s forehead before trailing the washcloth down below the water, gliding over Hosea’s stomach before stopping in the coarse hair of his fluff. “Are you comfortable with me cleaning… everything?”

Hosea shrugged, his smile falling as his head listed to the side.

“I need to hear you say it,” Dutch repeated again, gentle.

The corner of Hosea’s mouth quirked up as he glanced at him. “I trained y-you good.” Dutch withdrew his hand, and Hosea moved his to grasp weakly at his arm, stilling it as he clenched his jaw and made aggressive eye contact. “Don’t want… pity. Wanna feel like i-it’s natural. Like… we used to.” 

Dutch nodded, slowly. “Can I kiss you while I do it, then?”

Hosea huffed, and his smile returned. “Sure.”

And with that, Dutch slowly leaned down, his eyes becoming lidded, before slotting his mouth over Hosea’s at the same time he took the man’s flacid cock in his hand. Hosea opened for him and their eyes closed, letting themselves fall into the tender, sweet back-and-forth of exchanged breaths and sighs as they tasted each other, breaking apart only to gently inhale and change the angle of their heads. Dutch’s mind fell apart in three directions - one oozed into the sensations of Hosea’s mouth, the other tried to ensure he gently yet thoroughly washed the man’s groin, taint, and entrance, and the third frantically tracked the stirring of his cock and wondered if that was the direction Hosea was wanting to go. When he finally finished and broke their kiss, his cock was half-hard and pressing against the small of Hosea’s back, but Hosea’s cock was still fully soft and wholly uninterested. Hosea blushed and looked away.

Dutch did the same.

Washing Hosea’s hair was a quick task, and washing his own body and hair went by quick with his rapid, rough scrubs. The water was getting cold and the fire in the wood stove was dying down, so after scrubbing water through his hair one last time, he looked at Hosea and tentatively asked, “Do you want me to set you in the chair and dry you off?”

Hosea met his gaze for the first time in a while. “P- Put me in your lap.”

Dutch blinked and raised his brow. “You kinda already are.”

Hosea speared him in the chest with his shoulder blade. “In the chair.”

Dutch smirked and chuckled lowly, slowly rising out of the tub with a deep “Yes,  _ Sir.” _

It was only when he saw Hosea’s flushed face and chest upon turning around, with an almost scandalized hand cradling his temple, that he realized what he’d done. He felt blood rush to his face and his cock in equal measure, his body doing its best to plunge itself into easy memories of ecstasy, when they felt particularly adventurous or, more frequently, when Dutch desperately needed the entirety of his brain to be turned off, to let Hosea take the reins for a while. Before he could start reliving that particular kink’s greatest hits, he cleared his throat and raised a finger. “That was  _ not  _ intentional. We’re  _ not  _ going there.”

Hosea weakly laughed as he started to shiver again, the cooling water and absence of Dutch already taking its toll. “There’s a f-fuckin’ th- throwback.” He reached his arms up and extended his back, and Dutch picked him up and out of the water with a soft grunt, stepping back to sit down in the chair and rest Hosea atop his lap. He quickly grabbed his towel from the floor and studiously set to work drying them off, and when he was finished - Hosea’s hair a scruffy mess, his own damp curls free from product and hanging loose around his face - Hosea reached a hand into his hair and gave a modest tug. Dutch’s mouth popped open automatically, and Hosea was on him in an instant, licking into him firmly, searching, desperate. Dutch’s eyes fluttered closed and he moaned, hands flying up to clutch at Hosea’s waist through the towel where it was still wrapped around them both.

All of the sudden, Hosea broke the kiss and looked at him with tears in his eyes, his expression wracked with pain, shame, and disappointment. A spike of confused guilty panic drove through Dutch’s stomach before Hosea opened his mouth and half-sobbed “I can’t get hard.” Like a confession. Like it was some kind of grievous betrayal.

Dutch took a deep breath to quell the adrenaline that splashed through his veins and forced himself to relax. “So?”

Hosea lowered his gaze to Dutch’s still half-hard cock for a few seconds before looking back up at him. “How c-can- you still desire me like- this?”

Dutch took another deep breath and pressed his own nose to the fine downy softness of Hosea’s chest hair. “Well. Seeing you in pain definitely ain’t a turn on, that’s for sure, but... “ He released a heavy sigh and pressed a kiss to Hosea’s throat. “It don’t matter to me if you can’t get hard, darlin’. That don’t change nothin’. As long as you’re into whatever’s happening, that’s all that matters.”

Hosea furrowed his brow. “But I can’t… finish. Or- O-or please you. I know how much you love-”

“I have worshipped your cock many times,” Dutch rumbled, kissing Hosea’s throat again, “but you can please me with more than just your damn  _ dick, _ you moron.”

That bitter laugh came out of Hosea’s throat again. “With what? My h-hands don’t- work either. I can’t even- hold- myself up.”

Dutch quirked an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting that  _ I  _ can fuck  _ you?” _

“I…” Hosea ducked his head into the crook of Dutch’s neck. “Making you feel good- makes me- feel good,” he whispered. “I’ve never had- the greatest sex d-drive. I’ve struggled with it since the st- start, ‘member?” Dutch sighed and nodded. “I’ve never… taken you- without- working you up first and- using that to jumpstart mine. What if I c-can’t enjoy it? What if we can’t- make love anymore?”

Dutch shook his head and pressed a long kiss to the crook of Hosea’s neck. “Dearest…  _ Schatje…”  _ he said softly, and a shudder rolled through Hosea’s body that wasn’t from pain, “making  _ you  _ feel good makes me feel good, too. And that goes beyond  _ sex. _ If you ever want to lead us down that way, I’ll happily follow. If you don’t, I’ll follow just the same. If I need release, we can do like in those first few years, with me touching myself while you hold me, ‘cause I’ll love it just as much now as I did then. Hosea…” He made a point of making sure their eyes met, and he held Hosea’s gaze for a long moment before breathing,  _ “You _ are  _ enough.” _

Hosea’s eyes welled up with more tears and his expression broke into a shining smile.

“Beautiful,” Dutch murmured, pressing another kiss to his throat. “Now… how would you like… a warm chamomile oil massage?”

Hosea leaned down and captured Dutch’s mouth in his for a few long seconds, then sighed against his lips, “I’d like that.” He leaned away to stare into Dutch’s eyes. “Carry me?”

“Of course,” Dutch chuckled. After resituating his arms around Hosea, he held his partner close, still wrapped in the towel to shield him from the cold, and stood up with a grunt. He grinned down at the man as he stepped past their discarded clothes and made his way back to the stairs. “I can’t remember the last time I carried you in a bridal carry before today.”

Hosea was almost melting against Dutch’s chest despite the pain that knit his brow. “I like it.”

“I hope you’ll like  _ this, _ too,” Dutch murmured as he reached the top of the stairs. He tenderly set Hosea down in the armchair again and stoked the fireplace once more before padding over to the bed and hauling its mattress off the bedframe, sending the blankets and pillows spilling to the floor. He gave the bedframe a harsh kick, sending it slamming against the far wall and out of the way, then laid the mattress down on the floor in front of the fireplace. He made his next task grabbing all of his blankets and furs and pillows and arranging them in a soft nest on the mattress. When that was done, he stepped up to Hosea and asked, “May I move you one last time, dearest?”

Hosea’s eyes crinkled. “You m-may, dearest.”

Dutch carefully gathered Hosea into his arms, then quickly hefted him down from the chair and onto the soft, cushy assortment in front of the fire. Hosea twitched and spasmed and hitched a breath, but he was able to move on his own for the most part, quickly curling onto his side. Dutch ran a long, soothing hand down his ribs and asked, “Think you can get on your stomach?”

Hosea grunted his assent and started carefully attempting to roll himself onto his front as Dutch crawled over to his satchel and pulled out the vial of chamomile oil. Hosea shoved away a few pillows and slid onto his stomach with a strained, pained wheeze, before going…  _ mostly  _ limp, like a corpse in the throes of rigor mortis. Dutch couldn’t help but chuckle as he crawled his way back over, settling onto his knees beside Hosea’s hip, opening the vial and dripping some oil onto his fingers before setting the vial aside, rubbing his hands together to spread it around and warm it up. The smell was  _ heavenly, _ and Dutch felt himself relax as he leaned down close to Hosea’s ear and purred, “Now… I believe I owe you some compliments.”

Hosea gave a pleased hum into the blanket. Dutch grinned as he rubbed his hands into the harsh, knotted muscles in the nape of the man’s neck, working his fingers hard to unwind them and massage the oil into the skin. A moan rumbled out of Hosea’s chest that made Dutch’s grin widen. “Do you have any idea what a  _ vision  _ you are? What kind of profile you make, even from behind?” Dutch breathed, as quiet as the crackle of the fire. He moved his hands down to work at Hosea’s back, between his shoulder blades. “All… tall and lean, with… sharp grace and handsome angles.” He fanned his hands out over Hosea’s shoulders, working the muscles of his entire upper back. “And your back… it’s always so elegant. Even when it’s bowed, it never stops being elegant. I love the feel of it, the solidness of it. In moments like this, and... when I just need to reach out and touch you. During jobs. In front of the others. I love the feel of it against my hand.”

Hosea shivered, but not from the cold or from pain.

Dutch poured more oil onto his hands and warmed it again. “And God, every muscle, every… you have a couple moles back here, you know that?” he whispered with a light chuckle, reaching down to massage into Hosea’s mid- and lower-back, swiping his palms outwards in hard, firm rotations before coaxing the muscles and tense jut of his spine to relax with firm commands of his fingertips. “It’s a work of art.” After rubbing his hands in heavy, long motions all up and down the length of Hosea’s back, he fetched even more oil, still taking care to warm it first. “Your hips…” He slowly, reverently reached out to massage around the man’s hip-bones. “I love how they fit perfectly in my hands. I love the things you’re able to do with them…” His brain instantly shot itself down a pit of buzzing, lustful memories, making tingles roll down his abdomen and into his groin once more. “They’re perfect handles for me to hold onto as I push into you or suck your cock. And God can they  _ move  _ when you fuck me. And- Oh God-” a surprised laugh bubbled out of his chest as another memory presented itself “-you remember that one time on my birthday, you fucking-  _ Oh God-” _

Hosea squirmed under his hands and peeked over his shoulder at him with a knowing smile. “Is this the corset incident?”

_ “I damn near dropped dead _ walking into that hotel room only to see you lyin’ there in a corset and stockings with garters and everything-!” He laughed so hard he had to stop massaging and rest his head on Hosea’s back. “And I must have spent, what, damn near an hour obsessing over your hips?”

Hosea continued to squirm and  _ giggled. _ “You were so cute.”

“They framed them so  _ well,”  _ Dutch whined in defense. With a few more chuckles, he pushed himself back up and guffawed, “Oh, lord, now I get to go on about your ass.”

Hosea was like a worm on a hook with the way he was squirming, mashing his head down into the mattress. “Please, do go on.”

Dutch reverently brought his hands down to massage that glorious backside. “It’s… so soft,” he said gently, his laughter dying down to settle back into the quiet reverence from earlier. “Deceptively soft. Like a lot of you is. I’ve seen how harsh you can be, how cruel your touch can be, but… I wish I could just… wrap myself up in your softness forever.”

Hosea stopped squirming to  _ ooze  _ down into the blanket with a happy hum instead. He peeked back at Dutch again and drawled, “That took a different direction than I was expecting.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Dutch purred with a smirk, leaning down low to kiss Hosea’s radiant smile, warm and sweet. He nudged his head against the other man’s before leaning back to continue massaging his ass, hard and firm and deep. “This helps that electrocution feeling you get down your leg, right?”

Hosea let out a long, croaking noise of pleasure, ending in, “Mhmm.”

“Good,” Dutch said softly. “You just let me know when to move on to your legs, then.” He continued his work as the silence settled around them, comfortable and easy, flanked on either side by the gentle sound of the crackling fire and the icy rain hitting the windows. 

There were some times where silence would frighten him. Where silence would leave him with nothing but the constant, incessant ringing in his ears that brought with it memories of gunshots, or leave him trapped with nothing to focus on except the din of a thousand voices screaming and warring with each other in his head. 

This silence… wasn’t like that. 

The crackling of the fire and patter of rain helped fade the ringing into their more gentle whisper, and the whistling sound of Hosea’s breathing, slow and deep, occasionally accompanied by a soft, deep note of pleasure, kept the hellish chorus quiet. Made everything seem less like silence and more like sweet music.

“This is nice,” he said, absently. 

Another gentle note from Hosea’s chest. “It is.” He laughed, a near-whisper, a gorgeous sound. “Think my legs could use some attention now.”

“Oh, your  _ legs,” _ Dutch said gently, removing his hands from Hosea only long enough to add more oil to them, “I love your legs. They absolutely deserve attention.”

Hosea’s smile got impossibly brighter. He took a deep breath, then sighed, “You’re makin’ me all tingly. And not the bad kind.”

“Even better,” Dutch murmured, swiping his hands down to massage the backs of Hosea’s thighs. “You got a dancer’s legs, you know. And not just in the traditional sense. The way you move across a battlefield… The way you walk… Hell, the way you  _ sit.” _ He huffed a fond breath, moving his hands down to the man’s calves. “I always did love the way you sit. Very… characteristic. You dominate whatever place you’re in and challenge gravity - it’s delightful.” After a few more long minutes of massaging the fine muscles of those legs, he returned his hands to work hard into the man’s shoulders, eliciting a deep moan. “Ready for me to massage your front, darlin’?”

“M...hmm.”

Dutch grinned. “You gonna roll over for me?”

“Mm… hmm,” Hosea hummed. He peeked over his shoulder at Dutch. “...You roll me over.”

Dutch quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Feelin’ like bein’ manhandled tonight, huh?”

The corners of Hosea’s eyes crinkled. “By you...? Of course,” he said softly.

Dutch felt his cock twitch from where it stood at full attention between his legs, but he ignored it with a smile as he reached around Hosea’s shoulders and hips to roll him onto his side, then tenderly supported the back of his neck to lift him slightly and ease him down onto his back. They exchanged another long, sweet kiss, and when Dutch sat back up onto his knees, Hosea’s glinting eyes danced down from his face and across every part of him until they landed on his hard cock, widening slightly. Dutch’s eyes did their own dance down the man’s front, lingering only for a second on that still-soft cock before looking up to meet that hazel gaze.

Hosea huffed a laugh. “I… I may not look the same, but I think I feel the same.”

Dutch blinked in surprise before he smiled. “Do you… Do you want me to try and rile you up more?”

He was met with a smirk. “Give me all you got, baby.”

“Oh-ho.” Dutch gave a chuckle from deep in his belly as he pulled Hosea’s foot into his lap and retrieved more oil. “Careful what you wish for.”

“I think I know by now what I’m getting i-  _ hah...” _ Hosea suddenly became semi-gelatinous and closed his eyes as Dutch started massaging his foot, his words diluting into a long, drawn-out sigh of relief.

“First off,” Dutch began with a chuckle, “I would like to inform you your feet are beautiful and, once again, elegant. Including the calluses. I love your calluses - they feel nice. Second, I would like to inform you that you work yourself too hard, and you deserve rest. Third, that you deserve good things.”

“Kinky,” Hosea moaned.

Dutch laughed at that, loud and rich. “Pardon me if I don’t start right out the gate talkin’ ‘bout how I’d love to lift you up off the ground and fuck you against the wall-” Hosea’s foot kicked at him involuntarily as the man’s hands scrabbled along the blankets “-in exchange for pampering you in truths I think you need to hear.”

Hosea swallowed, thickly. “Keep… complimenting me,” he said softly.

“Oh, I shall.” Dutch moved to massage Hosea’s other foot, leaning down to press a kiss to his knee, his voice settling once more into quiet worship. “I love the sound of your voice. It’s my most favorite sound. It’s like… water. Like snowfall. Capable of sharpness and softness in equal measure. A beautiful duality. I smile every time I hear you bellow across camp, funnily enough. Even when you yell at me, there’s a part of me that just… feels at home, because it’s still your voice. You’re the only one who gets that right. And when it’s just the two of us… When there’s no anger… I wish I could just…” He blinked at the thickness growing in his own voice, and moved his hands up to warmly massage a knee. “...sink into it and you hear you talk forever. About anything and everything. That’s why I always fall asleep on you while you read aloud, you know. In those moments we share. It makes me feel… It…” His voice broke, and he huffed a laugh at himself.

“I know,” Hosea said quietly, low and soft and reverent. Dutch looked up to meet his gaze and almost melted at the sight of those warm eyes, soft and shining in the firelight but infinitely more beautiful. Dutch opened his mouth to compliment them, but there was something aching and sad in Hosea’s expression - something that gave him pause. Hosea’s expression fell further, and he breathed, “I don’t like yelling at you.” Then, “...What happened to us?”

Dutch let his gaze fall back to Hosea’s knees, his expression falling with it. He poured all of his attention into massaging the knee in his hands, and it wasn’t until he finally moved on to the other that he let himself say, “Life, happened. Loss… happened. Change happened. We changed our goals and… we need a shitload more money now. Property, it… The kinda capital we need, finding a place safe enough after the name we’ve made for ourselves, with this many people, it ain’t- Lord, we hardly have time for each other, I have so much  _ shit  _ on my plate, the few times we  _ do  _ see each other we’re at each other’s throats, and this ain’t natural for me-” 

“I know how much it stresses you out,” Hosea said gently, and Dutch looked up to meet his eyes again. “I don’t think I let you know often enough how much I appreciate… I… I love being with you and running with you and sharing a future with you, but I’m tired of running, and I’m tired of the violence, and I- I- I know you don’t want to stop but  _ I do _ and the fact that you’re- That you’re  _ trying,  _ Dutch, for me, and for Arthur, it means- it means-” his voice broke.

“I know,” Dutch said quietly. He dragged himself slowly across the mattress until they were face-to-face, easing himself down until he was flush against Hosea’s front, settling his weight gingerly over every inch of him, before cupping Hosea’s face in his hand and using his other to twine their fingers together. He glanced down at Hosea’s lips, once - a silent question. Hosea nodded almost imperceptibly, his teary eyes becoming lidded as he parted his lips, and Dutch slotted his mouth over his, a perfect fit as they breathed and sighed against each other, melting into each other’s warmth and closing their eyes.

Dutch had no idea how long they stayed like that and just... kissed, losing time like they lost themselves in the sensations of their mouths, their held hands, of skin-against-skin. Eventually, however, Dutch became aware of Hosea’s hips twitching, canting up slightly in a lazy rhythm to rut against his hip, and he softly broke the kiss to press his forehead against Hosea’s and ask a question that he’d received from the older man far more times than he’d ever returned it. 

“What do you need?”

A slow smile spread on Hosea’s face and he tilted his head up to press his nose against Dutch’s cheek, bringing his free hand up to curl around the nape of Dutch’s neck. He nuzzled upwards, slow and sensual, making Dutch close his eyes and let out a soft, needy noise that made Hosea’s hips twitch up again. “I need you inside me,” Hosea said, voice low and sweet like warm apple cider, and it was Dutch’s turn to shiver as his cock twitched against Hosea’s abdomen. “I need to feel you, all of you, I need- I need to feel something else other than  _ pain, _ I need… I  _ want… _ ” Hosea’s hand threaded up into his curls and gently twisted, making Dutch open his eyes to meet his gaze, and the sight of pure unadulterated  _ love  _ he was met with almost made Dutch’s heart stop. “I want to share everything with you,” he breathed.

Dutch swallowed thickly and brought his hand down from Hosea’s face to caress and massage his pec in long, languid circles, spiraling in towards his nipple and dragging the pads of his fingers across it, making Hosea’s breath hitch in pleasure. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Surprise me,” Hosea said with a twinkle in his eye.

Dutch blinked - once, twice. “You… You want me to…” He cleared his throat. “Take the reins?”

_ “Gently, _ but… yes.” Hosea slid his hand out of Dutch’s hair to trace his fingertips over the details of Dutch’s face, as slowly and reverently as the way he whispered, “I trust you.”

A low keening noise slid out of Dutch’s throat as he buried his head in Hosea’s chest and swore he almost came right then and there.

“Cute,” came Hosea’s coo above him, and Dutch laughed gently, slowly lifting his head back up.

“You’re the only one who gets to call me that,” he rumbled, sitting up and slowly letting go of Hosea’s hand to reach for more oil with a smile on his face. “I have an image to maintain.”

“Well I know your real image, and your real image is cute,” Hosea purred, reaching out to drag his hands down Dutch’s torso, only for Dutch to quickly set down the oil and push his arms down. “Oh?”

_ “You’re _ getting  _ spoiled,” _ Dutch said lowly, sliding his oiled hands over Hosea’s stomach as he looked up at the man through his eyelashes. “I don’t want you to lift a finger. I’m going to take you apart, piece by piece, and wind you up until you can’t even speak, until you don’t even know your own  _ name  _ let alone the pain in your joints, until you’re nothing but a wet, writhing wreck underneath me as I worship you like the King you are.” He heard Hosea hitch a breath and almost choke, and he caught the movement of his legs spreading slightly out of the corner of his vision. “Not so cute now, am I?”

Hosea stared down at him, wall-eyed. He squirmed a little and smiled with a giddy, delighted, anticipatory giggle.

Dutch eased his hands up Hosea’s sides and slowly leaned down to nuzzle along the soft skin of his inner thighs. “And I’m going to do everything in my power to make you hard, to make you finish,” he whispered, nuzzling further upward to press a soft kiss against Hosea’s soft cock, making the hips underneath him jerk and spasm, “but if you can’t do either, that’s okay, too. You’ll have one hell of a high to come down off of.”

Hosea gasped for air for a few seconds before managing, “I’m fine with that.”

“Good.” And with that, Dutch continued working the oil up Hosea’s sides, nuzzling his face against and mouthing at Hosea’s inner thighs before sweeping his hands down to oil Hosea’s legs. He resituated himself and rested part of his weight on his elbows, leaning down to press a heavy kiss into his fluff. He hesitated above Hosea’s cock, his mouth hanging open, and glanced up. “You can still… feel things through it, ri-?”

_ “Yes _ I can still feel down there even though the dumb bastard can’t figure out how to  _ wake the fuck up.” _

Dutch laughed, a warm rolling sound, and affectionately patted his leg. “Then… May I?”

Hosea’s eyes crinkled as he nodded, and Dutch proceeded to nose along the soft length of it, to pepper it with tiny kisses and licks. Hosea’s breathing got twice as heavy and Dutch heard a soft  _ thump  _ as the man’s head hit the mattress. That was when he decided to drag his tongue down and around the bottom of it, lifting it up slightly before pressing a kiss to its head. Hosea let out a soft whimper, then a sigh as Dutch took him into his mouth and slid his hands up to slot around Hosea’s hips. Dutch gently, tenderly worked at it for a solid minute, trying to coax it erect, but when it showed no signs of stirring, he softly let go and pressed one last kiss to its tip, then to the juncture of Hosea’s leg and pelvis. He turned his head up to Hosea and asked, “How we doin’?”

“Feels good,” Hosea huffed. “Ain’t… really goin’ anywhere though. Plateaued.”

Dutch grunted and sat up, gathering more oil into his hands and warming it before rubbing down Hosea’s arms. “Well, then, I guess it’s time to turn up the heat.”

Hosea watched him with a playful smirk. “You oilin’ me up like a roast… Talkin’ about heat… You gonna eat me?”

“Yes, actually,” Dutch drawled back, quirking his eyebrows up twice. He continued oiling Hosea’s arms, paying special attention to his cold elbows, then smeared the oil across his chest as he kissed and sucked a nipple into his mouth, making Hosea hitch a breath again. Dutch pulled away from the nipple to rumble, “The fact that this makes you look like an erotic Roman athlete is also a bonus.”

Hosea snorted. “Oh, ‘cause lord knows I have an athlete’s body. I’m a regular gladiator.”

“You are.” Dutch side-eyed him with a hungry smile, latching his mouth around the man’s nipple for a few seconds more before crowning it with a kiss, eliciting a shudder. “I’ve seen the way you face down threats to this gang. You can take down men three times your size and a third your age, and that’s only if they don’t tuck tail and run just from the power of your stare. I swear, you could stare down the Devil himself. Makes me want to rip my clothes off and let you have your way with me on an altar.”

“You wanna eat me or you want me to fuck you? Make up your mind, Zeus, damn!”

A laugh cracked out of Dutch’s throat as he oiled Hosea’s stomach. “Augh,  _ Zeus? _ Never call me something so cruel again.” He nipped the man’s nipple, making him spasm. “Tonight, you are the Persephone to my Hades.”

“Thought I was the Patroclus to your Achilles?”

“You’re that too.”

“Hmph. Perhaps I am your Persephone. She can’t exactly dick Hades down, either.”

_ “Well,” _ Dutch drawled slowly, his voice ascending in tone like a sliding whistle. “You know… When Susan and I were a thing…”

“Definitely a great way to turn me on, my dear, talking about you and Susan in bed,” Hosea deadpanned.

Dutch nipped his nipple again. “Shut up, I’m going somewhere with this. Now, I never let her use it on me, but she had this… harness… I’m just sayin’, if your cock stayin’ soft stays a problem, we could get you one. You could pick up a whole new cock somewhere, store it in your luggage.”

Hosea  _ cackled, _ working his hands into Dutch’s raven curls to massage his scalp, fond and too-familiar with the way it made Dutch melt. “If I can’t grow one myself, store bought is fine!”

_ “Exactly, _ now you’re getting it!” Dutch latched his mouth around Hosea’s nipple again and brought his hands up to push Hosea’s arms back down, enjoying the way the man’s chest shuddered and twitched from laughter and pleasure. He pulled off and mock-glared at him. “Now… if you keep  _ lifting your hands, _ my dear, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to set repercussions for doing so.”

Hosea raised a critical eyebrow and grinned, wide and sharp-toothed.  _ “Ohhh…  _ my, my, what could you ever do to me?”

Dutch’s eyes glinted with mischief. “You want to press your luck, liefje?”

Hosea’s eyes glinted in challenge. “You don’t frighten me, shefele.”

Dutch sputtered and sat up. “Lamb?! Oh,  _ you-” _ He growled and snatched Hosea’s wrists - firm yet gentle - and slowly moved them to pin above his head, shifting them into the grasp of one hand. He slung a knee over Hosea’s hips to straddle him and shifted his weight back so that the hand pinning Hosea’s wrists wouldn’t be bearing any weight - with the added bonus of pinning his hips to the mattress - then used his free hand to fist tightly into Hosea’s hair. Once he was sure Hosea couldn’t move his arms, his hips, or his head, he smirked down at Hosea’s blown pupils and leaned down close to purr in his ear, “I don’t have to frighten you,  _ schatje. _ And It’s not what I’ll do to you you’ll have to worry about… it’s what I  _ won’t.” _

Dutch paused a moment and nuzzled his nose against Hosea’s ear, breathing, “S’okay?”

Hosea gulped, then started panting. There was a faint chuckle in his voice as he said, “Very okay.”

Dutch nuzzled against his ear once more, whispering, “Say ‘Utah’ and I’ll drop everything.” Hosea snorted and made a noise of assent, and Dutch slipped back into character. “Tonight is all about you. I’m going to make you feel good, but how I do that is up to you. I can spoil you, or I can torture you. You said you wanted me inside you?” He lifts his head to stare down into Hosea’s eyes, both of their gazes dark with lust. “Depending on how well you  _ behave, _ that can mean my cock, that can mean my fingers, or - if you  _ really  _ keep fighting against being pampered and keep  _ mocking me _ \- I might not enter you at all. I might just let a toy do all the work.” Hosea’s eyes narrowed. “Now. You aren’t going to make a single move for me. You aren’t going to touch yourself, neither. If you have any health needs, for any reason, at any point, you’re going to tell me. And lastly, I’m going to  _ make you _ ask for things that you want. You ain’t burying shit or makin’ times of pleasure about me no more. So, schat, tell me - what, exactly, do you want?”

Hosea’s muscles tensed and Dutch felt him pull his own hair taut in an attempt to shake his head. “I… I want…” The blush across Hosea’s chest and his face was turning a delightful shade of pink, and his grin was absolutely blinding, trembling like he was holding back laughter. “Oh you utter  _ bastard-” _

“Now see there, that’s strike one. You just earned yourself a little trouble there, sweetheart. I’ll give you another chance. What,  _ exactly,  _ do you  _ want?” _

The laughter finally escaped Hosea’s chest, high and slightly manic. “I want- I want you inside me!”

“What part of me?”

Hosea’s muscles tensed, another failed attempt to move as his belly vibrated with laughter. “Your cock, you- you f- you-”

“Your cock, …? Mind your manners, now. And all this struggling’s earned you a second strike.”

Hosea pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose at him, and Dutch had to fight not to burst into a fit of laughter himself. His frame was already quivering with suppressed chuckles, and he could tell Hosea knew it by the twinkle in his eye. He was sure they both felt how weird the situation was - neither of them were submissive men, but in the twenty years they’d been intimate, whenever they did venture into those waters, it had  _ always  _ been Dutch who had yielded, surrendering himself into the steady, devoted care of Hosea, sinking into his safety and light and warmth. Hosea didn’t make it feel like submission - he made it feel like a private paradise, a little pocket dimension where Dutch was allowed to be desperate and needy, to not have any control and have that be okay. The thought of  _ Hosea  _ being in that role… it was nigh unthinkable. Even outside of the kink, even outside of their intimacy, Hosea was always the one to rib, to poke at him, to rile him up, to snap him back in line and ground him to what really mattered. Always in control. Always taking care of him.

Well. Hosea needed taking care of, too. 

The man in question huffed. “I need your cock inside me,  _ please and thank you,  _ Mis-ter van-der  _ Linde.” _

Dutch clicked his tongue. “That’s strike three, for attitude. Now, if this were any other night, I’d cut it off there and say all you get is a toy to play with, but I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you one last chance, but you’re going to have to  _ beg  _ for it, now. Make it count, sweetheart.  _ Beg.” _

Hosea opened his mouth, closed it, started to growl but cut himself off, choked it down as his expression flickered between frustration and desperation. His muscles twitched, little sparks of canceled movement. After trembling for a few long seconds, Hosea closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then another, then a third, no doubt working something out in his head. His mouth twitched into a smirk that made Dutch suspicious. Then, Hosea slowly opened his eyes, his smirk easing into something soft and shining, just like the look in those eyes, as his blush reddened to an almost alarming degree. His voice was deep and breathy, rich as honey and sweet as sin, when he moaned, “I need to feel you on me. Over me. In me. I need you to fuck me into this mattress with that beautiful cock of yours, to come inside me, claim me, let me know that I am yours and you are mine. Dearest… Darling…  _ B’shert... _ Please… I’ll be good...”

Dutch’s vision blacked out for a second as his groin pulsed. His mouth was suddenly very, very dry, and he ducked his head down to cough slightly, choking on several moans of his own. It took him a long moment to catch his breath and to stop the world from spinning, feeling like all the blood in his head fell to his cock as if it slid down a trapdoor. 

...How the  _ fuck  _ did Hosea do this without even blinking?

He cleared his throat and shook his head, then lifted his gaze back to Hosea’s, desperately scrambling to keep their game going and not immediately fumble to do everything the man wanted while babbling praise into his neck. He was hit, suddenly, by Hosea’s calm, quiet voice asking, “Dutch? You near Utah?”

It was like being doused by a bucket of ice water. Dutch shook his head again and took a deep breath, then glared down at him for half a second before it fizzled out. He couldn’t penalize the check-in; in fact, it was rather sweet. “I’m in fuckin’ Maine. ...You?”

Hosea’s eyes sparkled. “France.”

“Well then,” Dutch purred, leaning down to ghost his lips over Hosea’s, “I think… you earned your way off of thin ice.”

“Zeeskeit?”

“Yes, schatje?”

“I think I need water and to sit up for a while.”

Dutch’s eyebrows rose, and he smoothed his hand through Hosea’s hair, shifting his weight up off of his hips and letting his grip on his wrists go slack. “Well, look at you go. Telling me what you need. Taking care of your body. Damn incredible. That’s what I like to see, sweetheart.” He pressed a single, firm kiss to Hosea’s lips, then swung his leg off of him to sit at his side. He gently slotted his hands under the nape of Hosea’s neck and around his waist, murmuring, “Sit up on three?” At Hosea’s nod, he murmured, “One, two, three.”

With a soft grunt, Dutch pulled Hosea up off the mattress until he was sitting up. Hosea made a quiet, strained noise and winced, then- stiffened and sharply inhaled, his eyes widening. 

Dutch tensed. “You okay?”

“Look,” Hosea hissed.

Dutch followed his gaze downwards and jolted. 

Both men blinked down at the sight of Hosea’s half-hard cock.

Hosea wheezed a laugh. “It’s about  _ fucking time.” _

Dutch warmly chuckled and caressed Hosea’s inner thigh. “Looks like it ain’t completely out of commission  _ all  _ the time, darlin’. Now, let’s get you some water.”

Dutch crawled across the floor to grab his canteen from next to his satchel, barking out a laugh when he heard Hosea wolf-whistle behind him, and took the opportunity to grab his canister of petroleum jelly as well. Turning around, he made a show of languidly crawling back, and pressed a kiss to Hosea’s shining grin upon his return. Opening his canteen, he held it up and away from Hosea’s rising hands. “Ah-ah. Just like you aren’t allowed to touch me, you aren’t allowed to do menial tasks.” He glanced down at Hosea’s newly half-hard length. “...And you still aren’t allowed to touch yourself. Just let yourself be taken care of, sweetheart.” Hosea’s eyes crinkled, and he obligingly opened his mouth. Dutch raised the canteen to his parted lips while cradling the back of his head, careful to only give him a small mouthful of water before tilting the canteen back down to wait for him to swallow. When Hosea finally nodded to indicate he was done, Dutch took a few massive swigs for himself before screwing the lid back on with a heavy sigh.

“Now.” Dutch narrowed his eyes at Hosea as they sat across from each other, eyeing the way the man sat cross-legged with his hands neatly folded in his lap, smiling politely at him. “I think… perhaps… I should put you through one last test. A trial of action rather than words.”

After setting the canteen aside, Dutch slowly dragged himself behind Hosea’s back, shifting his legs to bracket his hips. He reverently wrapped his arms around the man’s chest and brought his lips up to his ear to rumble, “I think I’ll mark up your pretty neck and work that newly awakened cock of yours for a while. I want your hands on your knees, and I don’t want to see them anywhere else. Is that clear?”

Hosea swayed as if to lean back against him and nuzzle the side of his face, then twitched to a stop and returned to his original position. He huffed a laugh to himself and placed his hands on his knees. “You’re gonna make me model all the latest scarf fashions in front of the others, I see. And yes, it’s clear, dearest.”

“Good.” And with that, Dutch scooted the last few inches forward until he was pressed flush against Hosea’s back - including his aching dick, which made Hosea shiver - and started mouthing at every inch of Hosea’s neck that wasn’t covered in chamomile oil, sweeping his hands around the man’s chest for a few long moments before dipping one down to glide past his stomach and fluff, taking him in hand with a deep, pleased hum that vibrated against Hosea’s back. Hosea’s mouth dropped open as he whimpered, tilting his head back to allow Dutch better access. Dutch rewarded him with a suckling bite, rolling a nipple between his knuckles, pinching it and caressing it, as he worked his hand up and down Hosea’s length with rhythmic squeezes. He let out a growlish moan against Hosea’s neck where he was mouthing at the hickey he just left, feeling his cock grow just a little harder in his hand, making Hosea whimper again and twitch his hips forward.

Dutch kept it up for a good ten minutes, leaving no less than four hickeys on the man’s neck and managing to coax Hosea’s cock into being roughly three-quarters hard. Hosea was a panting wreck, shoving his back against Dutch’s chest in an attempt to get enough leverage to rut up into his hand, but to his credit, those hands never did leave his knees. Dutch stilled his hands, pressed one last kiss to a hickey, and rumbled,  _ “Mine.” _

Hosea’s hands went white-knuckled on his knees as he heaved for breath and shuddered. “Yours,” he agreed, hoarse. Then, quieter, weaker: “...Mine?”

Dutch eased both of his arms around Hosea’s middle and just… squeezed him against his front in a tender embrace, burying his face in the crook of Hosea’s neck. “Yours.” Hosea shivered again, and Dutch nuzzled his jaw. “You did good, schatje. I think it’s time I work you open.”

Hosea twitched with his efforts to not nuzzle back. “I… I… Dear?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Position change? Hands and knees?”

“Of course.” Dutch pressed one last kiss to the base of Hosea’s jaw, then scooted himself away - his hips and legs were tingling and slightly numb when he finally moved them, making him grimace with a quiet, strained noise - to push himself up onto his own knees. Hosea just looked at him expectantly, and Dutch huffed a laugh before moving to take him by the hips and shoulders, guiding him over and into the position with firm, commanding hands. “Now you’re doing a better job at enforcing the rules than I am.”

Hosea groaned in relief when he finally settled on his hands and knees, sagging his spine and rolling his neck. Dutch heard a couple cracks. “Dearest?”

“Yes, liefje?”

“Can you…” He swallowed, thickly, then huffed a pained breath. “Can you only use two? I want… I want to feel the stretch. Please.”

Dutch grimaced slightly and rubbed the back of his neck, but nodded. “Sure. I  _ was  _ going to use four, but… you’ve been behavin’ so well, I think we can go this route.”

“Thank you, zeeskeit,” Hosea murmured.

Dutch sighed. “You got me wrapped ‘round your finger, you know that.” Hosea quietly chuckled as Dutch gathered petroleum jelly onto his finger and settled himself behind Hosea’s ass. “Get ready, here comes the first.” Hosea braced himself, Dutch setting the canister aside to place a steady hand on the curve of Hosea’s ass, giving it a gentle squeeze as he carefully circled Hosea’s entrance. Before he pushed in, he whispered, “You near Utah?”

Hosea was quiet for so long that Dutch withdrew his hand and started gently massaging his hip. The gesture made Hosea say a quiet, “Wyoming.”

Dutch furrowed his brow and massaged harder. “We need to change anything?”

Hosea shook his head. “N-No, keep going. Please.”

“You… You sure?”

Hosea nodded emphatically, spreading his knees slightly and arching his back to present his ass to him.

“Well okay,” Dutch replied, his voice breaking and going hoarse at the sight. He cradled Hosea’s hip again, then circled his entrance once more. “Here we go.”

He slowly, tenderly pushed his finger inside, and Hosea’s sigh sounded sweet enough to allay any leftover worry. He paused for a second, whispering, “Good, darlin’, good,” before slowly pulling it all the way out only to push in deeper. After a minute, now all the way in to his bottom knuckle and picking up the pace, he picked up his other hand and brought it between Hosea’s legs to cup his balls. Hosea’s hips jerked upwards at the contact, accompanied by a gasp, and Dutch chuckled before firmly wrapping his hand around the base of Hosea’s cock to form a ring, holding it steady. “No moving your hips. Just focus on feeling good. God, you’re beautiful like this.”

Hosea shivered and moaned, and a zing of pleasure sparked through Dutch’s chest feeling Hosea’s cock pulse. Keeping a hold of him, he withdrew his hand and added more jelly to his fingers before murmuring “Here comes two. Last one you get before my cock.” Hosea shivered again, and Dutch eased both fingers inside, starting up the same tactic to work his way down to the bottom knuckles, taking intense care to scissor him open as much as he was able. 

A long five minutes later, after transitioning from scissoring to methodical searching, Dutch finally hit the jackpot, catching the bulb of Hosea’s prostate with the tip of a finger.

Hosea  _ mewled  _ and shuddered through his entire body, causing his arms to shake out from under him. He bucked his hips, but Dutch’s firm, warning grasp on his cock prevented them from going far. Instead, Hosea spread his legs further and whimpered, “Please… Please…”

With a chuckle and fond nuzzle to Hosea’s hip, Dutch carefully tried to caress it with the pad of his finger in slow circles, causing Hosea to arch his back and pant and spasm. Dutch listened carefully to the broken whimpers that dragged out of the other man’s throat, slowly increasing in frequency and volume, and when he knew that Hosea was finally on the cusp of orgasm- 

He raised his finger from the spot and stilled his hand.

There was a loud, violent  _ fwump  _ as Hosea’s fist slammed into the mattress hard enough to knock out a horse, and Dutch barked out a laugh that shook the walls. Hosea tried to yell at him, but mostly only managed to drool into the blanket and make strangled noises.

Hosea’s cock was fully hard in his fist and he was…  _ definitely  _ wet and open enough for Dutch to feel confident moving on to the finale. “Y-You did so wonderful,  _ so wonderful, _ s-schatje! Damn! You’ve earned m-my cock and more! Jesus!” He slipped his fingers out of Hosea at the same time he let go of his cock, and Hosea mewled at the loss, canting his hips back again. Dutch panted for breath himself and found that his teeth were chattering. “Eas-sy, my darling, easy. I’ll be b-back inside you s-soon.”

Fumbling for the petroleum jelly canister with shaking hands, Dutch gathered up a liberal amount and hastily slathered it all up and down the length of his own desperately aching cock. When he was finally satisfied, he dropped the canister to the floor and let it roll into the distance before desperately wiping his hand off on the blanket. Only a few seconds later, he was back behind Hosea, using one hand to clutch at his hip and using the other to line himself up. “Ready, s-sweetheart?”

Hosea jerked, spasmed, twitched his ass back to brush against the tip of Dutch’s cock, then ground out,  _ “Utah.” _

Dutch sprung away from him and quickly crawled up beside him, lowering himself down to the mattress to look into his face in frantic worry, which only sharpened at the sight of tears streaming down his cheeks. “Hosea, hey, I’m right here, it’s stopped. We’ve stopped. What do you need? What do you need from me? I’m right here, ‘Sea.”

Hosea heaved for breath and collapsed onto his side, rolling over onto his back, pressed flush with Dutch’s front. With desperate, clutching hands, he reached out and dragged Dutch over and on top of him before burying his face in his neck. Dutch’s head swam for a long moment before he melted into Hosea’s arms, clinging to him and burying his face in the man’s neck in return. Hosea rumbled into his throat, “Want… to touch you. And see you. I don’t want… any games for this. I want it to just. Be  _ us.” _

Dutch nodded and breathed, “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. Yeah. ‘Course.” He squeezed Hosea tighter and pressed a soft kiss to one of the bruises on the man’s neck. He felt Hosea mouth at his own neck and shivered, letting a long keening sound drag out of his throat.

“I love your noises,” Hosea growled, fisting a hand into his hair, and Dutch let out a broken moan.

“F-Fuck… I... “ Dutch heaved for breath and shivered. “I’m glad we’re doing it this way.”

“I’m glad we tried- uh, all that,” Hosea wheezed, “but just… not… for this.”

“Not for this,” Dutch whispered back. He pushed himself up just enough to press his forehead against Hosea’s, and the two men breathed each other in for a long moment. “...You ready to have me inside you, dearest?”

Hosea swept his hands down Dutch’s back, up his sides, around his chest, circled his hips, then glided them back up to bracket his neck before cupping his jaw, pulling him down into an open-mouthed kiss that Dutch whined into, deep and loud enough to vibrate both their chests, which turned into a quiet, broken sound as Hosea worked his fingers into his hair to massage his scalp.

They finally broke their kiss, and Hosea let out a long breath, which with it, carried,  _ “...Yes,  _ dearest.”

Dutch nodded slightly and dipped his head down to nuzzle the side of Hosea’s face for a few seconds, a gesture which Hosea eagerly returned, before pushing himself up to settle between Hosea’s legs. Hosea reached out and grabbed a pillow, lifting his hips up and shoving it underneath his lower back before grabbing another pillow to prop his head up. Hosea finally settled and melted, and the two men exchanged soft, shining smiles before Dutch eased Hosea’s legs up around his hips and lined himself up with Hosea’s entrance.

He took a deep, steadying breath and looked up to make eye contact with Hosea. The corners of Hosea’s eyes crinkled and he reached out a steady hand to cup the side of Dutch’s neck, over his pulse. Dutch relaxed and smiled, and refused to look away or blink as he nudged the head of his cock against the tight ring of muscle guarding the man's entrance. After a few gentle presses, the tip eased inside, and Hosea’s expression swiftly started disintegrating into a mixture of pain and ecstasy as Dutch slowly, carefully, reverently, eased himself inside, centimeter by centimeter.

Hosea’s breath hitched. 

Dutch’s breath hitched.

Dutch moaned.

Hosea moaned. 

A tear slipped out of Hosea’s eyes.

Three slipped out of Dutch’s.

Eventually, Dutch bottomed out, and he pressed his forehead to Hosea’s once more as his hand sought out his, twining their fingers together. Hosea brought up his other hand to massage at the tight muscles in the nape of Dutch’s neck, pushing his head down into another kiss and wringing out more noises from the younger which the older swallowed down like a starving man.

“Move,” Hosea whispered against Dutch’s lips.

Dutch did.

He started with a gentle, slow, lazy rock of his hips, then gradually worked himself up to faster, deeper thrusts, doing his best to angle his cock to brush against that sweet spot that brought Hosea so much pleasure. With his free hand, he carefully took Hosea’s cock in hand and started pumping it in time with the motion of his thrusts, wringing all sorts of gorgeous noises of pleasure and joy from Hosea’s throat that he wanted to drown in.

Hosea, for his part, used his hand to wander all over Dutch - massaging his scalp, tugging his hair, dragging his fingernails down his back - wringing out all sorts of noises of pleasure and joy from Dutch’s throat, too. When Dutch’s breaths started getting more and more broken, his hips spasming more and more as his thrusts continued, his hand losing its rhythm, Hosea started pleading, “Faster. Harder.  _ Come on, _ Dutch,  _ for me.” _

Teeth chattering again, Dutch buried his head into Hosea’s neck and readjusted himself to get a deeper angle before snapping his hips forward. Hosea whimpered in pleasure and scratched his nails down Dutch’s back, making a tremor wrack through Dutch’s frame as he fought desperately to keep up the brutal tempo while keeping his mind on thoughts of gunfire and the hunger pangs in everyone’s stomachs and what the ice storm outside would feel like in order to stop himself from finishing at the  _ sinful  _ sounds of him moving in and out of his life-partner.

It was a losing battle.

“‘Sea I’m c-close, I-I- I’m so close I, I’m sorry I can’t last much longer-”

Hosea fisted his hand into Dutch’s hair and held on tight, dragging his face down to his to nuzzle and moan, “Then come, Dutch, come for me sweetheart, don’t waste a drop, I wanna feel all of you, come inside me, come on.”

Dutch opened his mouth and let out a loud, broken bellow as he slammed himself inside to the hilt and came in a long string of white-hot pulses, feeling Hosea twitch and gasp and clutch at him with each one, locking his legs around his hips to keep him in place.

By the time he finished and the last aftershock faded away, both of them were twitching and spasming from overstimulation, albeit Hosea was vibrating like a live wire and Dutch was lying slack and completely boneless on top of him like a sack of flour, feeling like his brain had liquified and was about to pool out of his ears.

But Hosea still needed taking care of.

With a splintered groan, Dutch shakily pushed himself up enough to give his hand enough space to move on Hosea’s cock, then warred through the sweet syrup oozing through his veins and weighing down his limbs to try his best to wind his way up to a pleasurable tempo again, barreling through the aching pain that was growing in his back and hips and knees and wrist.

Hosea had slipped his hand out of his and was frantically running both of his hands through Dutch’s hair and down his back. “Y-You-” he huffed a laugh “-you good there, t-tiger?”

Dutch tried to form the words  _ For you I am _ but mostly gurgled.

Hosea started twitching his hips into a rhythm to help Dutch’s hand along. “You know… you can b-be the sweetest m-man on Earth when you w-want to be.”

Dutch let his head become weightless and sink to Hosea’s chest, which vibrated in a chuckle.

“God,” Hosea continued, shivering all over as he fucked up into Dutch’s hand and continued massaging his scalp and back. “You were so beautiful. S-So beautiful. My beautiful, gorgeous D-Dutch. Making me feel like a K-King. How did I get so lucky? How l-lucky am I that you’re mine? My best friend? My p-partner? My soulmate? Mine. A-All mine.”

Dutch let out a long, drawn out, slurred croak as he fought desperately to form words in return. Finally, he managed, “I…  _ I’m _ th… lucky… You d’s’rve… t’be… treated…” He buried his face further in Hosea’s chest. _ “Y’re _ beaut’ful… I…” His shoulders started trembling and more tears leaked out of his eyes. “I don’t… d’serve you.”

Hosea let out a soft whimper and let his head fall back as Dutch swiped his thumb under the head of his cock and twisted his wrist. “It ain’t about… d-deserve…” he managed. “It’s about…  _ choice.” _

There’d have to be a conversation in the future about how much they’d hurt each other these past few years, Dutch knew - mostly how  _ he  _ hurt  _ Hosea  _ \- but it didn’t have to be tonight. Instead, he said, “I’d give up th- the world for you. I’d die for you.”

Hosea’s hips gave a particularly forceful jerk into his hand and the man moaned.

Dutch dragged himself up to bury his face in Hosea’s exposed neck, continuing to fight to keep his hand going and his body from shutting down. He pressed a long, reverent kiss to Hosea’s pulse, then barely managed to lift his head up high enough to meet those beautiful hazel eyes. “I love you.”

Hosea threw his arms around his neck and hugged him, panting, high and wanton. “I love you too,” he gasped. “God, I’m close. I’m close I’m close I’m close.”

“You can do it,” Dutch wheezed, beginning to pepper his shoulder in kisses while trying not to black out at the way Hosea’s walls were clamping down on his soft, tortured, overstimulated cock. “Come on. Come on, Hosea. Come for me. Come, beautiful. Let go. Let go for me.”

Hosea’s thrusts became frantic as Dutch continued to murmur into his ear, his fingernails digging into the back of his neck hard enough to leave angry, red scratches. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute, and Hosea let out a frustrated whine.

_ “Come on,” _ Dutch begged, for Hosea’s sake.

After thirty more seconds, Hosea’s body spasmed as he sobbed, “It ain’t happening, it ain’t happening, stop stop stop stop, it’s gone, stop.”

Dutch’s hand stilled and he shuddered to a halt as Hosea desperately writhed underneath him, still desperate for release but unable to find it, thrashing his head. Sucking in a deep breath, Dutch said, “I’m gonna pull out of you, okay?”

Hosea shuddered and nodded, and with a massive shiver, Dutch eased back until he felt his cock slip out of him, followed by a small stream of seed. With a pained grunt, Dutch heaved himself onto the mattress beside Hosea, gathering him into his arms and hooking a leg over him to hold him flush against his front, spooning his back with every inch of contact he could create, running his hands slowly and reverently over every inch of his front he could reach. He nuzzled tenderly along his jaw and murmured, “It’s okay, shh sh sh sh sh, it’s okay if you can’t finish. It’s okay. You’re okay. Shh, shh.”

“Dammit,” Hosea croaked. Dutch pressed a long, reverent kiss to the hollow of his jaw. Frowning, Hosea slowly eased his eyes closed and let his muscles slowly unwind against Dutch’s, letting his breathing grow slower and slower as Dutch’s hands caressed his chest and stomach and sides, easing him back down the long way from his high. With each minute that passed, his frown eased closer and closer towards a content smile, his expression softening as Dutch’s soft touches and softer whispers of comfort made it seem less like a loss or a failure and more like… an ending that was okay. An ending that was still pleasurable, still intimate - not a final note of doomed fatality, but a  _ maybe next time.  _ A bookmark instead of a The End. It wasn’t the end of their intimacy - it was just another way to be intimate.

With one last sigh, Hosea melted back into Dutch’s hold with a soft smile, his cock steadily softening along with his arousal. Dutch gave him one last kiss to his temple, then slumped onto the mattress.

_ “...Ow.” _

Hosea snorted and glanced back at Dutch. “What, you hurtin’ too, now?”

“I… You know, I  _ mean it _ when I say  _ I _ am getting too old for this. I think I nearly died seven goddamn times. Oh, God… ow… owwww...”

“I’m feelin’ about the same as you it sounds like,” Hosea chuckled. “Some shit job we did, huh? I’m still in pain and now you are, too.”

“That was anything  _ but  _ a ‘shit job.’ That was- that was a  _ cosmic  _ job. A job for the ages, to be written about in poems and painted on finely crafted vases for historians of the future to become scandalized at and shatter upon the ground.”

Hosea giggled and nuzzled back against him. “Can you forgive me for destroying your body?”

“My body destroyed _ itself,”  _ Dutch huffed. “You can apologize to me for destroying my body when you inevitably dislocate one of my legs or throw out my back railing me with that strap-on we’re getting you.” Hosea barked a laugh and smacked his hip.

After a long, easy, comfortable silence, Dutch tucked his nose behind Hosea’s ear. “...Hey, Hosea.”

“Hm?”

“...This is a gift. Us. Growing old together. Most… most fellers like us don’t make it this far.”

Hosea blinked, then slowly nodded, humming to himself. He pressed himself even further back against Dutch as Dutch pulled himself closer around Hosea, bittersweet smiles growing on both their faces at the same time. 

Hosea looked back at Dutch, and Dutch looked down at Hosea, and their eyes crinkled before they shared a kiss, soft and warm, sweet and loving, safe and sure and true.

“Well, then… Let’s see how far we can make it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Impossibly, this work managed to inspire?? Fanart??? And so I urge each and every single one of you to to look at [these incredible sketches](https://www.instagram.com/p/CC7LQqTBBsq/) by @nevareck_tophatcat and to support her incredible art!! 🥺


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